


For Thy Pains

by moonstalker24



Series: Much Ado About Stiles [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prompt Fic, scott is a big meanie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3116483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonstalker24/pseuds/moonstalker24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fanfic prompt: Steter. Hurt/comfort. Alternative ending to TW episode where Stiles was kidnapped and beaten by Gerard. Oblivious!Scott sending Stiles mean texts about "abandoning" him after the game .... Or something along those lines :) Add anything else you like. One shot or multi-chapter, your choice :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Thy Pains

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HookerStiles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HookerStiles/gifts).



> Prompt fill for the lovely HookerStiles.
> 
> I hope it satisfies lovely. Also, I apologize for the delay.

**For Thy Pains**

Stiles never turns off his phone... and it's not because of werewolves. It's because his father is the Sheriff of Beacon Hills and at any time he could be called into a dangerous situation and Stiles could be getting that phone call telling him to get to the hospital... He doesn't like thinking about anything else that phone call might could say. He _won't_ think about it.

By the time the night is over Stiles is just so done that he wishes he could bring himself to turn the damn thing off... But, at the end of everything, Stiles is actually a creature of habit and he can't do it.

Not with Dad out there trying to hunt down whoever kidnapped his son.

Stiles lied to him. Couldn't bring himself to tell the truth. After all, what was Dad gonna do other than make the crazy old dude mad? Also, Stiles is pretty vindictive when you get right down to it, sooo, denying Gerard Argent the one thing he'd wanted from Stiles is a given.

No, Stiles tells no one. Not even Scott.

Not that he didn't want to tell Scott. He does, but Scott doesn't want to hear it. Scott thinks that Stiles just up and left him to deal with Jackson at the game. Like Stiles would ever voluntarily leave Scott to his own devices.

Scott has the survival instincts of stick.

So Stiles dealt, like he always does. He reassures Dad that this will never happen again because what lacrosse player is ever going to make the mistake of kidnapping the Sheriff's son _twice_. Then, then Lydia. Beautiful, witty, smart, horrifying Lydia. Who Stiles would still walk through lava for, despite the fact that he had watched her bring Jackson back from lizard-hood.

The phone chimes and Stiles glances at it. It's another text from Scott, so he rolls over away from it, cradling his hurt cheek in his hand carefully as he stares through the dark out his window.

He stopped looking at the texts after the fourth one that basically called Stiles a lying liar. Scott had basically blamed Stiles for everything over the last two hours. While Stiles would admit that them being out in the preserve that night had been because of him, Stiles kind of felt like he'd done a hell of a lot to correct the situation.

Some things about his continued survival, Scott doesn't really need to know. Especially after the fact.

So Stiles lays there wallowing in enough pain and misery to satisfy even Jackson.

The phone eventually dims, then the screen turns off.

A few moments later there's a thud on the roof, and a scratch against the window pane and Stiles knows there's a werewolf outside his window. He doesn't bother opening his eyes as he listens to the window slide open.

Whoever it is, they are polite enough to let Stiles know they're there. Stiles just doesn't care enough to want to know, so he rolls back over to his other side, away from whomever just stepped into his bedroom.

The bed dips as the person sits down. A big, warm hand settles on the back of his neck and Stiles feels the ache that was arcing between his jaw and cheek to the back of his skull fade away.

Stiles relaxes.

The body behind him shifts and Stiles can suddenly feel the breath of whoever it is along the side of his neck as they breathe in his scent. Stiles gets a whiff of something earthy. Dark and spicy and he knows who it is because he knows that scent.

There's only one person Stiles knows that smells like dandelions and ozone.

"You're dead" Stiles says softly.

The wolf at his back shifts and is suddenly lying behind him. Stiles lets him pull him into his chest. Lets him wrap one arm around his chest and slide the other under his neck.

"It didn't suit me. A bit boring, really."

Stiles snorts, reaches up and pulls the arm around him tighter. Clutching Peter's hand in his own and leeching as much comfort out of the embrace as he possibly can. He can feel the tears prickle at the back of his eyes and he's a little mad at himself for it. Peter Hale is the only one who noticed that Stiles was in pain.

Peter Hale is apparently the only one who cares enough to make sure he's alright. Peter Hale cares about the kid that came up with the plan to light him on fire and kill him, and then had the guts to _carry it out._

They lay there for a while. Minutes tick by and neither of them say a word. Stiles' phone goes off a few more times. Stiles flinches every time. Peter rumbles deep in his chest every time.

It's completely weird that he's taking comfort from a dude that not so recently was bent on killing them all. It's completely weird that he finds that rumbling, irritated growl so comforting when werewolves are the main reason for all his woes.

Eventually Stiles rolls over to face the wolf at his back. They're the same height, but Peter positioned himself above Stiles a little. Stiles notices that Peter has a clear view of the entire room. His eyes are glowing a bright, preternatural blue.

Peter Hale isn't just comforting him, he's guarding him.

Stiles feels something warm unfurl in his chest. He dips his head and tucks his nose into the crook of Peter's neck. Peter's arms tighten around him.

Downstairs the sound of doors closing indicate that Dad is finally home. They listen to the front door open and close. They listen to Dad putter around downstairs.

"Don't leave" Stiles mutters into Peter's neck.

They both hear it _"Don't ever leave me."_

Peter's grip tightens and he tenses up as he listens to the Sheriff walk up the stairs. His eyes dim to a regular, human blue, and he watches the door with caution as Stiles tries to burrow into him.

The door swings open and Sheriff Stilinski stills for a moment. He's surprised that there is a strange man lying in bed with his son. His son who he knows is wounded, but won't admit it. The man meets his eyes and the Sheriff watches the two of them for a moment.

Eventually the phone goes off again and the Sheriff walks into the room and picks it up. He frowns as he clicks through the increasingly mean texts before he heaves a sigh, deletes them all and powers the device off.

"We'll talk in the morning" he says to his son's back.

Stiles' head moves in a nod and the Sheriff meets Peter's eyes and the other man nods once. Peter will be there. Dad will get his explanation.

He leaves.

Stiles feels loved. Wanted. Some of the misery drains away.

Peter's grip on him tightens.

_..fin.._


End file.
